


A Little Motivation

by Tazii



Category: RWBY
Genre: Dubious Consent, Fucking on desk, Hate Sex, M/M, Oral Fixation, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Set between V8C2 and V8C3, Toxic Exes Being Toxic, Violence, degradation kink, drool kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27757480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tazii/pseuds/Tazii
Summary: “Soboldof you, James,” Arthur spat, tense as he struggled to keep his rising panic at bay. “And yet so very like you. To believe you can control everything. If that were the case we wouldn’t evenbe here. Butdokeep it up. Your fruitless attempts at absolute power will inevitably be your downfall.”James' grip tightened and Arthur could not control the tremble that raced through his body. Shameful and weak, Arthur’s body responded only naturally. A visible show of fear and anticipation as he remained to James’ mercy.“You’ll do what I want, one way or another. All you need is a little…motivation.”
Relationships: James Ironwood/Arthur Watts
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	A Little Motivation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OhNoHello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoHello/gifts).



> I would first of all like to thank Scrumpy for not only being my personal enabler, but for giving me a reason to write this AND sharing one single horny braincell with me after that last episode. You're the real MVP

“You do realise you’ve already caught me.”

In hindsight, provoking James’ weapon wielding men was not one of Arthur’s brightest ideas. It hardly even counted as a quip to begin with. If he’d known his guards were all too happy to get unnecessarily violent he would have at the very least tried to _earn it_.

The splitting pain at the left of his head was hardly worth it. His skull felt too tight, his body limp and sluggish as he was dragged down smooth floored halls. They’d been perfectly happy to transport him like that. Like _trash_ , discarded and unfit within these walls. Clearly some things never did change.

It took Arthur an embarrassingly long time to stir and pull himself from his captors’ grip, insisting he could stand and walk perfectly fine. Something that proved far easier in theory than practice. 

He scrambled to his feet as the world swayed and dimmed around him. The hit rattled him more than he’d like to admit. After all, it was far from the hardest hit he’d taken in the last few hours. The ever present ache that swelled around his right eye was proof enough of _that_.

He knew these halls. Walked down them once upon a time, far more dignified than his stumbled walk led by cruel grips to his upper arms. If he wasn’t so busy combating the skull splitting pain behind his eyes he might have been halfway prepared for where he was being led. As he was, he was completely blindsided when he was shoved into somewhere far from the interrogation room he expected. 

What he was met with was far more nostalgic. Familiar dark greys of his old files and desk stood out stark against lit white walls. There were books spread across the surface of his desk, along with stacks of paperwork left abandoned. It was clean at the very least, with a few personal items that very much did _not_ belong to Arthur. A fact he’d come to expect but hurt no less. He’d expected James to replace him but the confirmation tasted bitter. 

While Arthur would enjoy a moment to process and mourn the office he’d spent countless hours slaving away within for a man who could never appreciate his work, Arthur had the misfortune of being dragged to said man himself.

“So glad you could make it, Arthur,” James spoke, his voice eerily calm in the times of Armageddon.

James’ back was towards him, hands folded behind his back as he regarded two holographic screens. Far more focused on the work than those around him. _Typical_.

James’ left arm had been removed, replaced in such little time with black metal. It stood out against the white of his gloved right hand, another piece more machine than man. Arthur was admittedly _proud_ of that one. 

Arthur turned his head and spat on the white floor, his saliva pinkened and dirtied with blood as the metallic taste lingered on his tongue. 

“I’m afraid your welcoming party leaves a lot to be desired, _James_ ,” Arthur drawled back, his head light as he tried to straighten himself up into some form of dignity.

It lasted all of half a second before Arthur recoiled, fear clutching at his chest as four guards behind him lifted their guns towards him. His right hand came up towards his chest, hovering as he half clenched his fist and eyed the closest muzzle aimed straight at his temple. It took another second for him to collect himself, hands moved to his tie to straighten and fix it as he returned his attention back to the general himself.

“Yes, well, I’m afraid it's been a long night for us all. I trust you’ll understand if they’re a little.. testy.”

The guard with the muzzle to his temple grinned, a quiet laugh on their lip as their finger rested over the trigger. All too ready to get a little trigger happy. They were enjoying this. All of them. Undoubtedly most of all _James_ whose back was still presented to him. 

Unimpressed with the violent display, Arthur’s lip curled before he followed James’ line of sight. Now that he looked Arthur could make out the action that played out on the projection. Their dear _Cinder_ was exchanging blows with Pietro’s creation herself. Arthur’s brows twitched up, silently surprised to see the maiden in Atlas. Between the two fighters Arthur wasn’t all too sure which he’d prefer to see suffer a loss more. Either way, he took great pleasure in watching them fight.

“I have a little problem,” James continued, and Arthur’s gaze lingered on Cinder’s form as Winter Schnee joined the battle.

“I’m afraid Cinder has all the charm and knack for survival of a _cockroach_. Even so, that’s not exactly a problem I’m willing to help you with.”

“I don’t mean _her_.”

There was a slight bite to James’ final word. The barest hint of aggression that rung alarm bells within Arthur’s head. All too quickly it faded, left in the wake of cool control. James remained rigid and composed, and Arthur’s scowl lingered to ensure James wasn’t a split second from snapping without a warning. 

Yet the video played on, and Arthur stepped forward enough to see around James to the second screen.

Another video played, focused on Pietro’s creation and what appeared to be a dead woman on the floor. And yet that wasn’t the most fascinating aspect of the entire footage. No, even with the blue tinted hue of the projected image, Arthur could make out the flicker of flames around the robot’s eyes.

Arthur’s brows rose, quietly stunned as the flames died out and more interlopers appeared on the footage. That hardly interested him. Anything else paled in comparison to the power the machine suddenly possessed, and the success of Pietro’s creation. If something so selective as maiden powers could reside within a machine then it stood in testimony of how close Pietro had come to playing God. 

A rather swift proverbial kick while Arthur was down. 

He disregarded his own bitterness in favour of watching, curious as the machine— this _girl_ — boarded an aircraft and left Winter wounded on the ground. 

As nauseating as watching Pietro’s creation toe far too close to humanity was for Arthur, there was far more pleasure to take from what unfolded. A sense of righteousness and validation as they both watched James’ pet project defect with the stolen maiden powers. And oh if _that_ wasn’t poetic.

“Oh _James_ ,” Arthur mused, his voice lifted with poorly disguised amusement. “After everything you put into that project— after everything you’ve _lost_ — for your own creation to turn against you. The betrayal must be…” 

Arthur trailed off in mock thought, his right hand brought over his chin with his elbow rested within the palm of the other. After a brief moment, he waved his right hand flippantly.

“Well, _familiar_ at this point.”

“You’re going to bring her back to me,” James went on without the slightest reaction to Arthur’s mockery, and Arthur’s arms lowered a tad as he turned his attention back to him.

“ _Me?_ Oh yes I’m utterly _flattered_ to receive the opportunity, but wouldn’t it be easier to ask this of your personal _favourite?_ ” Arthur’s lip curled into a smirk, his eyes narrowed as he continued. “Unless, of course, _he_ has turned on you as well?”

The silence that followed was palpable with affirmation, lingering all too long as the videos looped back to the beginning of the madness. 

“Tonight just _isn’t_ your night, is it? I’m afraid loyalty is so hard to come by nowadays. Burn all your bridges for the aim of perfection and just _look_ where it gets you. Backed into a corner with nothing to do but _grovel_ to those you threw away in the first place. And here I thought you didn’t _need me_.”

“Leave us,” James commanded, and Arthur’s jaw snapped shut as his eyes darted frantically between the man himself and the guards that suddenly lowered their guns. 

Ironic, he supposed, that he felt far safer with the guns trained on him. The guards stepped out without a word, faces as stoic as James sounded. The door shut after them sealing the two of them alone and Arthur fingers twitched as he glanced between the door and the biggest threat in the room.

Emotional James was easy. He was _familiar_ and predictable. And while emotional James was just as prone to throwing a punch, at the very least Arthur could be prepared for it.

Cold and concise James was far more unpredictable. It came with a bite of metal that would follow through on any threat without the slightest of hesitation, and Arthur’s shoulders grew tight as his skull continued to ache and throb. 

Despite all that, Arthur couldn’t help himself. Resentment and pride were too powerful of emotions, and an extended exposure to Salem’s special kind of unpredictable rage dulled the fear of man. 

Besides, who was he to resist rubbing salt into a festering wound?

“Speaking of such loyalties, you really _ought_ to train your soldiers better. The lack of self-control and restraint is embarrassing. It’s hardly a good look, and you certainly don’t need to look even more incompetant.”

James finally turned and it took everything in Arthur not to avoid his eye. He refused to flinch back or shy away. Even as he was met with steeled eyes and a taut jaw, Arthur kept his head raised high in challenge. A refusal to concede.

“I think you’ll find I have far more control than you give me credit.”

James took a step to the left, and the hairs on Arthur’s nape stood on end. He watched, his chest tight as he held his breath and followed along with his eyes, frozen on the spot as James began to circle.

“Control over Atlas,” he started, hands still folded behind his back as he casually walked around him.

“Control over Mantle,” he continued, walking ever slow until he was out of Arthur’s immediate sight. 

Arthur’s shoulders grew tense, the ever present seed of fear taking root and spouting within his chest.

“Control over my military.”

James’ voice spoke behind him, and Arthur’s body warred between turning around and remaining in place. He’d stopped behind Arthur, out of sight but _far_ from out of mind.

Two metal hands landed on his shoulders and Arthur jumped, shameful and startled as his shoulders hiked up. James’ grip was iron tight as he felt James’ words press to the shell of his ear.

“ _Control over you._ ”

With a sudden brutal force, James shoved Arthur towards the computers. Dizzied and paling in comparison to James’ brute strength, Arthur hadn’t the slightest chance of catching or correcting himself and crashed hard against his once desk.

His body fell between the two projected screens, the light parted around him as his hands pressed to the table, distorting light between his fingers as a blunt pain formed in his belly. He’d hit the edge of the table with tremendous force, a wheeze formed in his chest as the air was knocked out of him. His legs had given out from the fall, the desk providing his only crutch as he tried to push himself up proper and hack a cough.

James wasn’t as kind as to let him.

With the sure grip of an iron shackle, James’ hand came down around the back of his neck, firm in its hold as he was pushed back down to the surface of the desk. Arthur’s heart leapt to his throat, his fingers curled in against the smooth surface of the desk as memories flooded to the front of his mind.

His throat throbbed, purple marks still fresh from James’ earlier assault. The tight grip of James’ hand around his throat lingered like a ghost. The tightness and strength under the fabric of his glove. James pressed down against the back of his neck and Arthur gasped, the fear hitting like a rush as his feet scrambled to find their footing.

He was bent over and pinned down, undignified as he struggled to calm his racing heart.

When James spoke he unsurprisingly hovered close. His voice was low but hard, speaking of promise and an unhealthy desire for control.

“You _will_ help me, Arthur. You have no choice in the matter.”

Arthur had no doubt in that. The hand to his neck was enough to prove he had no room to argue. It was help or the muzzle of a gun, and Arthur didn’t trust James to show restraint once again. 

“So _bold_ of you, James,” Arthur spat, tense as he struggled to keep his rising panic at bay. “And yet so very like you. To believe you can control everything. If that were the case we wouldn’t even _be here_. But _do_ keep it up. Your fruitless attempts at absolute power will inevitably be your downfall.”

James' grip tightened and Arthur could not control the tremble that raced through his body. Shameful and weak, Arthur’s body responded only naturally. A visible show of fear and anticipation as he remained to James’ mercy.

“You’ll do what I want, one way or another. All you need is a little… _motivation_.”

Arthur froze up as he felt his coattails flip up over his back, the promise of debauched retaliation making Arthur’s eyes grow wide. Of all the things he expected James to try, this had certainly been low on Arthur’s list.

Familiar nights on this very desk came to mind, wrapped together in passionate ecstasy and stacks of paperwork scattered on the floors. Moments of bliss inevitably ruined by James’ betrayal.

In a way this was all too familiar. Yet in another all so alien, because there had never been this level of indifference and spite when James bent him over before. And James had certainly never been this cruel.

“But let's face it, you’d do it for me anyway.”

“And how do you figure _that?_ ” Arthur spat back, his fingers flexed against the table as he felt James’ fingers slip under the leather of his belt.

“Because you’ve always been so damn _desperate_ for attention. Even after all this time you’re nothing but a showoff. And you and I both know you’d love nothing more than to outshine Pietro.”

“I’ve _always_ outshined that oaf! I worked harder. Produced more. I will always be twice the scientist he was!”

“Then prove it,” James growled against his ear, and Arthur’s stomach flipped as he felt his belt snap in James’ hand. “If you’re so brilliant, if I fucked up beyond repair, then why are you here bent over, hard, and desperate for my attention?”

Arthur squared his jaw, teeth clenched tight as he became all too aware of the tightness in his pants. In the way his feet spread out and knees bowed inward, compliant and accepting towards James’ advances. Even after realizing this much he didn’t try to right himself and save face. 

As much as it pained Arthur to admit, James was right in a sense. No, he wasn’t stupid enough to work for James for attention alone. Not anymore at the very least. But hacking into that contraption could prove beneficial to Salem, and James had to be aware that was what played on his mind. 

The humiliating words were utterly unnecessary in making Arthur agree to the work, as was the sensation of his belt ripped away from the front, snapped in two pieces. Yet, despite the unnecessary act of James pulling the hem of his pants over the swell of his ass, Arthur couldn’t bring himself to verbally acknowledge the uselessness of it all. Call it masochistic but the sure grip against the back of his neck and the press of a metal hand to his backside wasn’t all that unpleasant. He hadn’t even noticed when James had discarded the glove, and he certainly hadn’t seen him produce a little bottle until he heard the familiar pop of the clipped top.

In their moments of familiarity there was still something so alien to it. The press of metal between his cheeks wasn’t all that new to Arthur, and yet the touch struck as something different. Something cold and lacking in their usual passion. The blunt touch of a smooth finger pressed to his ass forced a hiss through Arthur’s teeth, his body tense as the slick surface pushed through. 

_Waterproof_ had been James’ specifications as Arthur designed it. The rounded edges between grooves had been Arthur’s in a sense of self-preservation. It resulted in a rather inhuman sensation. With each knuckle the silver outer shell ended, it swooped down into black flexible underwork.

Between the lubricant and the lack of skin the friction was practically non-existent. Arthur’s jaw fell with a silent gasp as he ass clenched around the deeper mechanics, but James wasn’t going to let him rest. James’ finger pushed further in and the blunt press of the next stretch of steel kissed his rim. 

“You’ve always been too easy,” James mused above, and Arthur’s nails bit into the table surface as he snarled back.

“And you’ve always been a royal pain in the rear end.”

“I can be worse,” James promised, and Arthur’s eyes widened with a gasp as James shoved the finger in deeper.

There was no respite. No preparation. The smooth metal forced its way in with ease, tight muscle clenching around the next stretch of black before the very last notch pressed against him and pushed all in one motion. 

“You’re so tense,” James actually _laughed_ , and Arthur’s lip curled in a weak response. “Don’t tell me it’s been _that_ long?”

Arthur wanted to spout something back. To match James word for word. To claw onto whatever dignity he could manage. But James’ knuckles pressed against his ass as his finger pushed in deep, curled down as the smooth surface pressed hard against Arthur’s prostate, and all coherent thought promptly flew from his head.

His finger pulled back partway, the dips and ridges rubbed against his tight ring and forced it to move and stretch around him. All while Arthur felt James lean over him, the shadow of the man eclipsing Arthur as his fingers struggled to find perch. 

“Perhaps that’s why you’ve been such a little _bitch_ lately,” James hissed, that quiet bite of frustration slipping through the façade, and Arthur’s body trembled.

His knees buckled and fingers finally found the base of the projectors, hands gripped tight around them as the light broke around him. Just in time, it seemed, because James’ slid the finger down to the metal tip before a second joined the first. There was no quieting himself when James slammed his fingers in, the ridges mercilessly stretching out Arthur’s ass as it slid in all at once.

Any attempt at keeping himself silent was long forgotten. Not when James began to piston, fucking Arthur on metal fingers that parted and pried. His rim stretched around the brutal fucking, forced wide with inhuman strength and stiffness. There was no give to metal. No softness to the touch. And it coincided perfectly with the hand that continued to grasp the back of his neck.

James pushed down and Arthur turned his head to one side, mouth wide and shameless in the wild grunts and groans that swelled from his chest. His ass lifted almost instinctively, the heels of his shoes up off the ground as his toes offered the only support. His knees bowed inward as James opened him up wide, stretching and cruel as Arthur came undone. 

“You’ve always been selfish,” James continued, almost forlorn as he split Arthur open. “Desperate and needy. You’ll really take whatever attention you can get, won't you?”

“I’m not— the one so _unstable_ as to— _FUCK_ a prisoner over a table in the middle of war!” Arthur snapped back, his voice hitched and faltered as James’ brutality continued.

“Perhaps you’re right,” James answered, the stiffness returned to his voice sent firing alarms in the back of Arthur’s mind. “Maybe I am a little unstable at the moment. So kind of you, _Arthur_ , to volunteer yourself for me to take it out on.”

James’ fingers slammed inside, pushing and prying until tears sprung in Arthur’s eyes. His tongue became clumsy, all intelligent thought abruptly _fucked_ out of him as James kicked it up a notch. His knuckles slammed between his cheeks, fingers pressed down to brutally rub against his most sensitive of spots. Violent and demanding as Arthur’s words slurred to the point of nonsense. The hard slam of metal had Arthur keening, his knuckles paled as he grasped at the projectors for his dear life. In and out, over and over along the ridges of smooth slick metal. He was stretched beyond belief, utterly fucked out of his mind.

And suddenly it was over. 

It came to an abrupt stop as James wrenched his fingers free, and warmth flooded to Arthur’s face and settled below the skin as he felt himself gape and clench around the sudden nothingness.

There was a moment to breathe. A short few seconds where James’ hand lifted from his neck and Arthur had his time to try and collect thought. To regain himself even the slightest. 

It didn’t last nearly as long as Arthur needed.

James’ grip returned to his neck, though it wasn’t quite the same as before. The same strength, yes. A sure grip and tight press against the sides. But the metal was different. Smooth with a lingering touch of wetness, slick from what Arthur could only assume was lubricant. He’s switched hands, Arthur noted, and that realisation only offered him another moment to consider what James was doing with the other before he felt the press of warm skin against his abused hole.

“You—” Arthur’s voice was ripped away from him, his breath caught with a sharp intake as James slammed inside, uncaring and brutal as James’ hips slapped his ass.

He was thick and long, wedged in deep as James gasped above. His hand tightened around Arthur’s neck, held on as he pinned Arthur in one spot. The lingering lubricant from his fingers was the only mercy shown as the skin of James’ cock rubbed him from deep within.

James pulled out steady before he snapped his hips forward, buried in as he knocked the air from Arthur’s lungs. Arthur’s mouth fell open, panting and hot against his once desk. James repeated the action, hard controlled thrusts pushed Arthur on the desk, his jacket crinkled and built up around his stomach as he shifted on the surface. 

“ _James_ ,” Arthur managed to wheeze, the word practically punched out of his lungs with another brutal snap forward. “You really are— overworking that _metal_ of yours—”

Arthur had no doubt that James’ semblance played a part in their current affair. The brutality and coldness behind the act. Every slam forward was cruel in nature, spitting on the memory of the nights they spent together years ago. Somewhere in that metal shell, James suffered from a bleeding heart. A heart shielded with many forms of metal. The same metal that made James’ fingers squeeze around his neck, his tips pressed in against two little pressure points that had him seeing stars.

“If you want a real taste of my ‘metal’, so be it,” James answered above.

Arthur couldn’t even attempt to register James’ words, let alone understand them. His comment had apparently bothered James enough to pick up his pace, his hips slammed hard against Arthur’s backside. There was a bite of metal to one side, an iron hip bruising Arthur’s skin with his improved pace. Like a hard slap, Arthur’s cheek ached with every thrust forward. His heavy cock rubbed deep within, thick and stretching Arthur to his very limit. 

The kick up in speed had Arthur’s eyes rolling up, hot pants fogging the desk as he was fucked out of his mind. Every slam of their hips tore grunts and moans from Arthur’s lips, pathetic and far too pleased for the situation he found himself in. 

He hadn’t even noticed James’ other hand until cold metal slipped between his parted lips.

Three digits pushed over Arthur’s bottom lip, prying them apart as James’ fingers delved inside his hot mouth. They were sleeker than the right. _Sharper too_. Every groove was sharp lines and edges. Each dip was hard and squared off. Gone was the smoothed edges of Arthur’s design, traded for something far from human. Arthur could only be thankful that James hadn’t used those to finger him open.

James’ pointer finger slid up over his tongue, his middle just below, before he pinched them together and trapped his tongue between. Arthur squeaked around them, his slick warm tongue caught between two hard sleek surfaces. They tightened around him, the edge of the grooves dug in painfully as James snapped his hips forward again, drawing a wet open mouthed groan.

“I don’t need this to get what I want from you,” James warned, and Arthur keened below. “You want to test my metal? _Go right ahead_.”

James’ grip tightened, like the jaws of pliers squeezed tight around his tongue. One press tighter, one sharp tug or twist, and Arthur would be dealing with far more pain than he’d particularly enjoy.

Even so, he couldn’t help but whine. It was a knee jerk reaction, drug up with slaps of metal against skin. He buried his cock in with sharp hard thrusts. Saliva pooled below Arthur’s tongue and he pitifully tried to swallow. Caught as he was, his tongue couldn’t move to aid him in his attempts. 

So the drool only continued to flow. Up over the back of his tongue and down over the inner gum of the cheek pressed to the desk. James’ metal hand rested on the other, slick black technology dug into his skin as his fingers finally let go. Yet they only pried deeper, the smooth surface against the flat of his tongue welcomed compared to the sharp pinch. James pried his teeth further apart, fingers dragged along his tongue and gum. It clicked against his teeth as the drool began to overflow, slipped down the crease of his lips until they stained the desk below. 

James’ thrusts only grew in severity, a frantic pace sliding Arthur to and fro on the surface. The ache in his backside settled into a radiant heat, burning deep in his skin as his monstrous cock had its way with him. 

Even with his mouth full and a threat of serious maiming still rattled within his mind, Arthur couldn’t help the pitiful sounds. Grunts and wails around slick metal as drool caked the side of his face. He was an utter mess; eyes rolled back and salivating around James’ fingers. An utter disgrace that Arthur couldn’t bring himself to be ashamed of. Not when he was so pleasantly _full_ and fucked beyond belief.

There wasn’t a single thing he could do either. Pinned as he was, Arthur could only lie there and _take it_. Bent over and used by his unhinged ex-partner. It was disgraceful, and so utterly delightful. His fingers tightened around the projections, the blue lights of the screens scattered across the room, the contents of the videos long forgotten as the heat became unbearable. 

His cock throbbed just before the edge of the table, swung below with every violent thrust. The warmth glew like flames, settled in his loins and sent sweet pulsations straight to his cock. Arthur’s eyes rolled back as his lips sealed around James’ fingers, sucking instinctually as he slobbered and drooled like an utter mess. His toes pressed down in his shoes as he came barrelling towards the sweet end, the rough treatment only sending sparks of pleasure racing through his spine. He voiced each pleasure with muffled moans, needy and shameless as he whined around James’ digits.

James angled his hips down and Arthur saw stars, the thick underside of his cock rubbed straight against his prostate until Arthur came with a broken scream. Molten heat surged through his veins, burning him up from the inside in wicked ecstasy. His cum sputtered under the desk, pearly white hitting the tiles below. His ass clenched around James’ member, his entire body tense as he hit his edge with a silenced cry. His cock pulsated as his ass throbbed around James, utterly spent in the wake of James’ so called ‘motivation’. And as quick as it came, it teetered over the other edge. Down into the pits of an afterglow.

Yet James was far from done.

Tears pricked in Arthur’s eyes as James pushed down, Arthur’s face smeared against his own drool as James slammed in over and over. A wicked and sure pace or rapid thrusts had Arthur crying out around prying fingers. His mouth hitched open with gasps, those same pleasant sparks now sending his body into an overworked frenzy.

He twitched and thrashed as best he could below, knees buckled completely as he lost all ability to hold himself up. Not that he needed to. James had him perfectly propped to ruin him completely.

His nails scratched uselessly at the surface of the desk, primal and trapped as James continued his vile act. Behind him he could hear James grunt and snap his teeth, animalistic in his grunts and vile curses.

His fingers slipped free from Arthur’s mouth, caked in drool as he brought it down against James’ spine and pushed, pinning his squirming body down.

Empty now, Arthur replaced the cruel steel with sharp cries. Weak and high as James slammed over and over, a rapid pace that had Arthur’s vision blinded with exploding stars. He was hot and sticky, face coated in drool as his cock sputtered a few more drops, long spent as James had his way with him. 

“So _pathetic_ ,” James growled behind and a tremor traced along Arthur’s spine. “Is this all you’re good for now? A cheap _fuck?_ ” 

Arthur wailed, utterly lost in the boarderline _painful_ overstimulation.

“You’ve always been such a little bitch.”

Arthur’s ass tightened around James’ cock, body strung line a bow with every cruel word.

“When this is all over I might just keep you alive.”

Arthur’s mouth hitched open, a whined moan slipped from drool caked lips.

“And use you for the only thing you’re worth anymore.”

“Please—” Arthur whined.

“Or,” James cut him off, and Arthur trembled as he felt his breath ghost against his ear. “You can follow a simple order and _maybe_ you can earn it all back.”

Arthur’s teeth clenched with every slap of skin on metal, eyes squeezed shut as James provided him with true motivation.

“Either way, _you’re mine_.”

James’ hips snapped forward before Arthur felt hot seed pour within. James’ cock throbbed between pulsating walls, cum spilled deep inside Arthur’s overused ass. Above him James gasped, panting hot as he pumped inside. He rutted his hips forward, burying himself in as deep as he could reach as Arthur’s ass milked every last searing drop. 

The motions slowed into something frantic and small, metal and skin ground against Arthur’s ass as James was sure to spend his fill. 

Arthur’s heartbeat pulsated between his ears, deafening as they panted and shivered from the brutality. Arthur was completely slack against the table, his face sticky with drool as he struggled to collect himself. James once again didn’t give him the time.

A low chuckle sounded behind him, breathy with the lingering exhaustion of his work, and the hairs along the back of Arthur’s neck stood on end.

“Look at what you made me do, Arthur.”

James pulled out too fast and Arthur gasped before the hand on his neck pulled him back roughly. The other grasped the hem of his pants and pulled them up over his spent ass, cum still leaking from his rim as he heard a chair skitter on the floor. He was weak on his feet before James dropped him into the chair unceremoniously. The impact made Arthur jump, the pain brutal as his ass throbbed. He yelped at the pain before he felt James push his chair in, locking him against the desk and in front of the screens still playing out the fight.

His pants grew wet as James’ cum leaked from him, pooled against the seat and stained his pants with his thick load. Arthur was completely frazzled as he looked back towards James, alarmed as he saw the man head towards the door.

“I’d suggest getting straight to work, Arthur,” James called back to him, utterly indifferent despite his recent act. “Unless you need more motivation.”

James opened the door and stood back, stiff and stern as the guards piled back in. They rounded the desk with guns raised and Arthur shrank in his seat as he felt the wetness in his pants continue to grow. He reached up, face blazen and warm as he used his wrist to wipe the dried drool from the side of his face. 

“I’ll try not to keep you waiting,” James promised, though his voice lacked any true sincerity.

Arthur looked back with a scowl, spent and exhausted as his legs pressed together in an attempt to stop the slow leak of cum from his gaping hole. James glanced back too, eyes hard as they stared one another down.

“Don’t disappoint me.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you everyone who reads this! And an extra thank you for any comments and/or kudos!!
> 
> If you'd like to catch me elsewhere, you can find me on: [Tumblr](https://taziidcvil.tumblr.com/) (sfw) or [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/TaziiNSFW) (nsfw)


End file.
